


A Special Guest

by carnalbones



Category: MTMTE - Fandom, The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers
Genre: Biting, Bondage, M/M, Rape, Size Difference, Size Kink, Sounding, Sticky Interfacing, noncon, overload denial
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-28
Updated: 2017-07-14
Packaged: 2018-11-20 03:38:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11327865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carnalbones/pseuds/carnalbones
Summary: A request where Overlord has Chromedome kidnapped with the intent of breaking the mnemosurgeon into being a subservient, interface plaything.





	1. Chapter 1

This couldn’t be happening. It couldn’t. It just couldn’t.

But as he was shoved along, his vision covered over, rendering him blind, and frame restrained down onto the rolling berth, Chromedome had to come to grips with the fact that this _was_ happening. He had been kidnapped and was being taken to only Primus knew where. And given that his wrists were bound behind his back and ankles lashed together, the mnemosurgeon had a grim suspicion that this wasn’t going to be anywhere near pleasant for him.

“Where are you taking me!?” he demanded for what seemed like the hundredth time.

“Shut up! Just-just shut up!”

The fact that his unseen captors sounded almost as nervous as he was did nothing to quell Chromedome’s worries.

Where was he being taken to?

 

* * *

 

Lounging in his chair, lazily swirling the Energon around in the cube it had been served to him in, Overlord looked up when he heard Chromedome’s protests echo through the hallway. He grinned sardonically and hummed in contentment to himself, turning his gaze back to the sloshing Energon. So the mercs that he’d hired to kidnap the mnemosurgeon had been successful. Very good.

Seemed like Overlord wouldn’t have to crush their helms after all.

Even though he was eager to begin with his plans for Chromedome, Overlord forced himself to be patient. This was one of the few times that he could muster up a bit of patience, given how enticing the end goal was. He did, however, allow him a short chuckle when he heard Chromedome protest and struggle again, before taking a long drink of the Energon, almost finishing off the drink.

Tossing aside the cube just as the mercs rolled the captive mnemosurgeon in, Overlord looked over Chromedome’s writhing and struggling frame. He didn’t bother hiding how pleased he was, shifting in his seat a little as he felt heat begin to well up in his core. The mnemosurgeon looked far more appealing in person than in a few measly photos.

Though he almost spoke, Overlord cut himself off before he said a word. It would be much more fun to keep Chromedome guessing until the last minute as to who their kidnapper was. So, with that in mind, and a quick flick of his hand, Overlord dismissed the two mercenaries.

They were all too eager to leave, and almost tripped over each other trying to exit the room and shut the door behind them. Their panic was nothing but amusing to Overlord, who stifled a chuckle as he waited for them to leave and shut the door before rising from his chair.

“Who-who are you? I know you’re there!” Chromedome shouted, struggling against his restraints in vain. “Release me this instant!”

The demand almost made Overlord laugh out loud, and he had to bite down on his bottom lip to keep himself quiet as he strode over to the rolling berth that Chromedome was trapped on. He reached over and let his digit tips brush against the mnemosurgeon’s inner thigh, smirking when they yelped and withdrew. Waiting only a few seconds, Overlord reached back down and gripped the yellow-visored mech’s inner thigh, massaging firmly at the already warm metal.

“S-stop that!” Chromedome cried, trying to jerk his legs away as the firm grip sent small ripples of teasing through his thigh and between his legs. “Let me go!”

“Oh, I don’t think I want to do that,” Overlord crooned, reaching over to untie the blindfold that had been securely wrapped around the mnemosurgeon’s visor. He leaned forward and grinned down at the smaller mech. “At least, not until I’m through with you.”

Panic hardly began to touch the maelstrom of horror, terror, and revulsion that flooded Chromedome’s systems, and he redoubled his efforts to try and get free. He didn’t even bother crying for help, knowing that if he was already this far into Overlord’s clutches, there wasn’t anybody that could help him.

“My, my,” Overlord commented, straightening his posture and tapping his chin. “Such a feisty one. I didn’t know you had such energy in you, Chromedome.”

“Keep your filthy hands off me!” the mnemosurgeon yelled, even though his voice quivered, betraying just how horrified he was.

“Oh, but I don’t think you really want me to do that, do you?” Overlord purred, slipping his hand between Chromedome’s thighs and moving it upwards until he was massaging at the yellow-visored mech’s interface panel. “You may not have said anything, but I saw that little twitch of delight when I first had a hold of you.”

“You-you disgust me!” Chromedome spat, writhing around and lifting his hips in a futile attempt to move his interface panel away. Instead, he only managed to rub it up and down against Overlord’s invading hand, which, much to Chromedome’s growing horror, sent waves of reflexive tantalization through his already racing systems. “Get-get off me!”

“You’re in no place to be giving me orders, my delicious, little mnemosurgeon,” Overlord hummed, continuing to roughly massage at Chromedome’s interface panel. He could feel the heat begin to waft up from it, and the massive mech would have been lying if he hadn’t admitted to himself that there was notable heat growing from behind his own interface panel. “Don’t you think?”

“What are you planning to do?” Chromedome hissed, falling still for the moment and trying to get his panicked senses in some semblance of order.

“I think _that_ would be quite obvious,” Overlord purred, licking his lips before pinching at one of the seams of Chromedome’s interface panel in an attempt to get the smaller mech to continue their wonderful struggling.

The action worked, and, with a short, gasped yelp, Chromedome resumed his struggling, allowing Overlord to once again massage at the mnemosurgeon’s interface panel and inner thighs. Shuttering off his vision, Chromedome tried to focus on anything but the damned feeling of Overlord’s hand between his thighs. His ventilation was racing, and Chromedome could practically hear his spark pulse in his helm, but all of that paled in comparison to the worry that he thought he could feel the first droplets of lubricant welling up from his valve.

“You make such a delectable show with all that struggling,” Overlord commented, chuckling even though Chromedome fell still for the moment as they tried to regain a bit of their energy. The sight of the mnemosurgeon trapped and struggling warmed Overlord’s overload charges and teased at the pressure building against their interface panel. “It’s no wonder I won’t be able to help myself.”

The idea of Overlord not being able to control himself, given that the sadist was already maniacally self-indulgent to begin with, put fresh new panic into Chromedome’s already ignited fervor. He made a stifled yell, and began fighting against his restraints with renewed vigor. He didn’t care that Overlord was continuing to massage against his interface panel, or, worse yet, that it was drawing small pearls of lubricant to the seams, Chromedome just wanted to try and find that one weak point in his restraints. He had to.

“Yes, yes… That’s it. Such a good prisoner,” Overlord crooned, making an audibly pleased noise when he felt the warm, slick feeling of Chromedome’s lubricant on his digits. He lifted his hand up so that the mnemosurgeon could see the viscous fluid gleaming in the light, before slowly sucking it off his fingers, one by one. “And such a delicious one, at that.”

“You’re despicable!” Chromedome spat, still fighting against his restraints, smearing the traces of lubricant around on his inner thighs.

“Oh, you have no idea,” Overlord chuckled. He then noticed the lubricant streaking across the other mech’s inner thighs and made a pleased noise, tilting his helm to the side in observation. “And you’re putting on quite the tempting show.”

Falling still again, Chromedome, his ventilation already coming out in short, harsh pants, mustered up as much courage as he could to glare up at Overlord. He didn’t want to make the depraved mech any more pleased with him than he already seemed to have. It made his tanks churn in disgust, and Chromedome had to suppress the urge to gag.

Noticing that Chromedome had stopped writhing, Overlord rolled his optics and walked over, grasping Chromedome’s thighs, one in each hand, and began massaging them against each other. He smirked whenever Chromedome made a noise of protest, but didn’t stop. If anything, the noise simply seemed to make him increase the pressure against the warm metal.

“It’s rather rude to make me do all the work, don’t you think?” Overlord asked airily.

Though he had some quip of telling the massive mech to undo his restraints and then there wouldn’t be any work for either of them, revulsion and panic muddled and silenced Chromedome’s words. The mnemosurgeon made a low whine and tried to pull his legs away, but Overlord’s hands and the restraints kept him in place. Which, given how the lubricant flow hadn’t slowed, and how lecherous the gaze was that Overlord was favoring him with, made Chromedome feel even worse.

Then, as though he were reading the smaller mech’s thoughts, Overlord glanced over to another berth, keeping his hands on Chromedome’s thighs. Following the larger mech’s gaze, Chromedome felt his insides twist and go cold in terror.

The table in question had significantly more padding and cushioning, but that was where the comfort ended. It also had arm rests with restraining straps, and, more horrifyingly, stirrups with restraints that could be used to hold down a mech’s legs as well as spread them apart. And it certainly didn’t take any stretch of intelligence for one to guess what Overlord was intending to do once he had Chromedome on the second table.

“Don’t-don’t you dare!” Chromedome stammered, his spark pulsing so hard it felt like it would rip out of his chassis.

“You talk as though you have a say in the matter,” Overlord chuckled darkly, sliding his hands up and along Chromedome’s thighs so that he could indulgently rub at the restrained mech’s interface panel.

Then, humming merrily to himself, Overlord grasped the edges of the rolling berth that Chromedome restrained on and wheeled it over so that it was beside the second, stationary berth. He continued to hum, even when the mnemosurgeon’s noises of struggle and protests were the only audible thing in the room, stopping only when he had the rolling berth properly situated by the other, stationary one.

“There’s no need for such dramatics,” Overlord chided. He then smirked and gave the mnemosurgeon’s side a quick swat. “Besides, I intend to have you making _plenty_ of noise soon enough.”

This time, Chromedome didn’t bother suppressing the gagging noise that escaped his vocalizer, but it was ignored by the larger mech. It got Overlord’s attention, but the larger mech simply chuckled and grasped Chromedome’s restrained ankles with one hand. His grip was so firm it hurt, and the mnemosurgeon swore that he could feel the metal trying to buckle under the relentless pressure. Of course, Overlord didn’t seem to notice, and Chromedome doubted they would care if they did notice.

Resuming his rather merry hum, Overlord held Chromedome down, despite their struggling, as he undid the restraints around the smaller mech’s legs. Once he was done, Overlord’s demeanor abruptly changed, and he yanked Chromedome down viciously, earning a yelp from the mnemosurgeon as their hands, which were still tied behind their back, scraped against the top of the berth. Overlord scowled down murderously at Chromedome, grabbing their waist with his other hand.

“Now, then, I’m going to suggest you stay still for a moment,” Overlord instructed. His voice then dropped to a malicious growl that sent chills through Chromedome’s frame. “Or I’ll tear you in half and simply use whichever half I want however I want.”

Knowing better than to believe that Overlord was merely bluffing, Chromedome fell still, shuttering off his vision. He winced as he was hoisted up and then unceremoniously dumped on the stationary table. For a brief moment, he thought about trying to resist, to try and keep his legs held shut, but he knew that it would be a foolhardy attempt and would most likely result in his legs been ripped off.

“My, my, my,” Overlord crooned as he guided Chromedome’s legs apart, restraining each one in the stirrups. He reached down and ran his index finger through the thick smears of lubricant on the mnemosurgeon’s inner thigh, chuckling when Chromedome reflexively twitched. “You made quite the mess, didn’t you?”

“Stop,” Chromedome hissed, struggling against the restraints now that they were in place. His hands were still tied behind his back, but the cushioning was helping ease some of the pressure.

“Hush,” Overlord snapped back, still grinning.

Glaring down at the larger mech as they began to massage at his legs, moving them apart until his hip joints creaked, Chromedome tried to steady his ventilation. It was a short-lived attempt as he watched, and more notably _felt_ , Overlord move so that they were between his now spread apart legs. The much larger mech gave a rough, firm rut against Chromedome’s interface panel, and though it disgusted the mnemosurgeon, the fact that he felt lubricant well up responsively and leak out from the seams was even worse.

“Looks like someone is enjoying themselves almost as much as I am,” Overlord chuckled darkly.

“Never,” Chromedome finally spat back, trying to hide the quiver in his voice and failing.

“We’ll see about that,” Overlord hummed, leaning forward and pressin his frame against Chromedome’s, one of his hands sliding up between the mnemosurgeon’s trembling legs and massaging firmly at the lubricant slick, heated panel.

Making a sound that was somewhere between a groan and a weak growl, Chromedome jerked his helm to the side as Overlord began to bite and lick at his neck cables. Had it not been for the cushioning, the mnemosurgeon swore he would have been crushed by the much larger mech. His hip joints creaked as Overlord continued to rut their hot interface panel against his own, which was, much to Chromedome’s dismay, getting harder and harder to keep shut.

While disgust may have been roiling in his tanks and spark, heat and lust were reflexively building in response to Overlord’s relentless tantalizations. Chromedome made a quiet whimper as he felt lubricant begin to drip down his inner thighs, not sure if it was his own or Overlord’s. The sharp nip of pain from Overlord’s dentae was quickly followed by the slick, warm feeling over their long glossa sliding over the bite marks, and Chromedome forced himself to keep his helm still. He worried that if he tried to move his helm to the other side, Overlord might bite down on his facial plate, and, for Chromedome, that would be much worse.

“S-stop..,” Chromedome whispered hoarsely. “...please.”

“What’s this?” Overlord laughed roughly, making a mock thrust against Chromedome, making the smaller mech jerk with the impact. “Begging already?”

The idea of him ‘begging’ Overlord for anything reignited the indignation that had been flitting through Chromedome’s thoughts, and the mnemosurgeon narrowed his visor in anger. He could feel Overlord’s other hand sliding around to hold onto his lower back and lift up their hips, brushing against his still restrained hands. In an act of thoughtless recklessness, Chromedome slid free his surgery needles…

...and stabbed them into Overlord’s offending hand.

The short, but loud, snarl of pain, coupled with the fact that Overlord jerked back and stepped away from Chromedome, gave the mnemosurgeon a sense of having achieved a small victory.

It was a _very_ short-lived victory, though, as Overlord made another growl and stormed back over to Chromedome, grabbing their hips and roughly pressing, almost slamming, their interface panel against the mnemosurgeon’s and rutting against it with renewed fervency. It sent wave after wave of carnal stimulation through Chromedome, and the mnemosurgeon whimpered audibly, arching their back. The struggle to keep their interface panel closed was now painful, with the pressure having grown beyond anything that Chromedome had experienced before.

“Think you’re clever, don’t you?” Overlord hissed with a grin, watching as the smaller mech writhed in desperation to try and move away from the rutting. “Think a little pinprick is going to stop me?”

Panting loudly, Chromedome forced himself to focus solely on keeping his interface panel closed. Overlord’s rutting was smearing hot lubricant all over the panel, notching up the heat and pressure, and every thrust seemed to make the mnemosurgeon’s interior and anterior nodes throb in a needy rhythm. His spike ached to pressurize, and Chromedome could feel the lips of his valve now pressing against his hot interface panel.

It didn’t matter.

He had to keep his panel closed. Had to keep his panel closed. Had to-

_Schlkt._

Visor brightening in horror as he felt his interface panel slide away, finally, on seemingly its own volition, Chromedome let loose a sharp cry as a deluge of lubricant dribbled out of his swollen valve entrance. His spike pressurized suddenly, going rigid as droplets of pre-overload transfluid dripped from the tip. Gasping and bucking in a desperate attempt to get away from Overlord, who was now chuckling loudly, obviously pleased with the results of his ‘work’.

“There we go,” Overlord purred, stopping his rutting for the moment. “Much better. Don’t you think, Chromedome?”

Groaning and shaking his helm weakly, caught up in the rush of relief that had flooded his systems now that he was no longer denying his interface panel from opening. Chromedome knew that he had lost against Overlord’s teasings, but that didn’t mean he had to let the sadistic mech enjoy the victory. The mnemosurgeon tried to get the will back to close his interface panel, but found that his systems wouldn’t respond. As horrifying as it was, Chromedome was far too aroused to get his interface panel to close back.

“Now then… Let’s make sure those pesky needles are out of the way.”

One hand clamping down on Chromedome’s neck, crushing the cables and causing the mnemosurgeon’s ventilation to catch, Overlord reached around and quickly, but carefully, undid the restraints around Chromedome’s wrists. He glowered down at the smaller mech, wordlessly daring them to repeat their stupid action of stabbing him with the needles. Fortunately, Chromedome seemed to have learned their lesson, as they remained still for the most part, wheezing and whining under Overlord’s grip and as cool air washed against his exposed valve entrance.

“Good. Good, pet,” Overlord praised, condescension practically dripping from his tone. He yanked one of Chromedome’s arms out and began restraining it to the berth’s armrest. “You’re a fast learner, it seems.”

Staying still, but not quiet, as Overlord restrained his other arm, Chromedome gasped as he struggled to get his ventilation. Overlord’s grip was merciless and strangling, and it was enough that it was causing flecks of light to flutter across Chromedome’s vision. Even so, the larger mech didn’t seem to have the intent to choke Chromedome into unconsciousness...even if that may have been the more merciful action to take.

“There!” Overlord proclaimed after he had securely restrained both of Chromedome’s arms to the berth’s armrests. “Much better.”

Weakly tugging against the restraints that were wound tightly around his arms, the mnemosurgeon sighed heavily and let his helm fall back against the berth padding. His strength was beginning to wane, and Chromedome had a sickening suspicion that he was going to need any and all resolve that he had left...and very soon.

Kneeling down, humming once again, Overlord began to inspect Chromedome’s exposed valve entrance and spike. He gripped the mnemosurgeon’s thighs to hold both himself and them steady, looking over the swollen lips that were dripping lubricant, smirking at the sight of opalescent transfluid slipping down the shaft of Chromedome’s spike.

After a few moments of thought, Overlord delved his index and middle digits into Chromedome’s valve, wriggling them around, testing the tautness of the mesh walls. He smirked as lubricant welled up around his digits, the massive mech pleased to feel that Chromedome’s valve was quite tight. The mere sensation was enough to notch up the pressure building against his interface panel, which was stained with his own and Chromedome’s lubricants.

“My, my… Quite the tight one, aren’t you?” Overlord commented, looking up to watch Chromedome writhe around slowly as he continued to wriggle his fingers around in their valve. He then chuckled shortly before continuing. “Feels like you’re no stranger to being penetrated...but only by far smaller spikes…”

The comment stung more than Chromedome wanted to acknowledge, and he snarled before bucking angrily in retaliation. The feeling of Overlord’s digits wiggling around in his valve was both disgusting and stimulating, and Chromedome wanted nothing more than to get the damned things out of him. He could feel his lubricant sliding down his still swollen valve lips, leaving pinpricks of stimulation in its wake. And for as quickly as his thoughts were racing, Chromedome didn’t know what to do.

He knew what he wanted. He wanted to break free and get away from Overlord’s lecherous advances and return to the company of allies. ...back to the company of Rewind.

“Hm, but you are making a bit of a mess,” Overlord said, eyeing the transfluid that was still dribbling down Chromedome’s spike. “Let’s see if we can’t stop that, shall we?”

Visor flickering in alarm, Chromedome looked down...and quickly wished that he hadn’t. He was greeted with the sight of Overlord withdrawing their digits from his valve, and then slowly, indulgently, licking the mnemosurgeon’s translucent lubricant off their digits. The sight of Overlord’s glossa coiling around their digits and lapping up the viscous fluid made Chromedome want to gag again, and he quickly jerked his helm away to avert his gaze.

Making a pleased noise at the taste of Chromedome’s lubricant, Overlord then turned his attention to the small tray of ‘tools’, as they were, that he had procured for this occasion. Once his digits were clean, the massive mech plucked up a sounding rod, and looked over the slender piece of metal. He glanced down at Chromedome, mildly amused to see that the mnemosurgeon still had their helm off to one side and their gaze still averted. He tapped it along his digits for a moment before lifting it up to look at it once more.

Even though he could see, from the corner of his vision, Chromedome watching with growing alarm, Overlord pretended not to notice. Instead, he smirked and coiled his glossa around the sounding rod, running it along his fluid slick glossa. Once he was sure that his oral fluid had completely coated the slender rod, Overlord turned his attentions back to Chromedome, who began struggling when they recognized what the rod was for.

“Now then… You’re probably going to want to hold still for this.”

In another brash act of defiance, Chromedome redoubled his efforts, causing the berth to creak and the stirrups that his legs were fastened to to rattle. The actions were not appreciated by Overlord, who watched for a few moments with a very unamused look, before grasping the mnemosurgeon’s erect spike... _quite firmly_.

The flash of pleasure-pain made Chromedome fall still, but he whimpered and shook his helm in a wordless plea. Chuckling and waving the sounding rod in an appreciative gesture, Overlord waited for a moment before slowly and expertly sliding the sounding rod into Chromedome’s spike. Transfluid welled up around the rod and dripped down onto Overlord’s hand and the shaft of the spike he still had his hand around.

Sensors that were almost never stimulated flared responsively as they were tripped by the smooth metal gliding in, and Chromedome groaned audibly, arching his back. He couldn’t help it. His will to resist Overlord’s teasings and tantalizations was slowly being chipped away, bit by bit, and, as much as the mnemosurgeon didn’t want to admit it, he was succumbing to more pronounced reactions every time.

“There we go!” Overlord said, with no small satisfaction in his tone, as he finished sliding the rod in. He glanced down at the transfluid on his hand, made a short noise with a shrug, and then rose so that he could lean over Chromedome and watch their expression closer. “That’s much better. Wouldn’t you agree?”

His ventilation coming out in short huffs, Chromedome whimpered and kept his gaze averted and away from Overlord. His systems were a mess of revulsion and arousal, overload charges already simmering and taking in whatever stimulation they could. As much as Chromedome hated to admit it, he feared that Overlord was going to coax an overload from him before this was all over.

That was only solidified when the mnemosurgeon felt Overlord’s still fluid-slick digits wrap around his hard spike and begin stroking it.

“Nuh-no,” Chromedome hissed softly, trying to wriggle away, even if it was in vain. “Stuh-stop...please...s-stop.”

“Are you sure that you want me to stop?” Overlord crooned, keeping his firm and steady stroking of Chromedome’s spike, already feeling it starting to engorge with transfluid. “I don’t think you do.”

Whatever reply that Chromedome had was cut off when his overload charges suddenly notched up and caused a sharp cry to escape his vocalizer. He bucked upwards, despite the grip that Overlord had on his spike, and tried to focus the remnants of his resolve on stopping transfluid from welling up within his spike. Already the hot plating was beginning to ache as transfluid continued to fill his spike responsively.

“Hnh! Ah!” Chromedome bit back the urge to say that it was starting to hurt. He was almost certain that it would simply spur the larger mech to continue.

Chuckling darkly, Overlord continued to pump Chromedome’s spike, increasing the pace even though the sounding rod was doing its job quite well. He watched as the smaller mech writhed weakly underneath him, felt their lubricant smear across his hand, and could still taste the now hot lubricant on his glossa. However, most importantly, he could feel the undeniable and unmistakable pressure rising against his interface panel as his own lubricant pearled around the seams.

He wasn’t going to bring Chromedome to overload, however. At least, not yet.

Overlord planned to tease and tantalize the unfortunate mech until they were begging him for release. That and he wanted to make sure that Chromedome’s valve was good and wet before he...proceeded. And while Overlord wasn’t concerned about hurting the mnemosurgeon, he didn’t want to do any permanent damage. It would make the following ‘sessions’ less enjoyable if Chromedome’s valve wasn’t as responsive as it was now.

“That’s it, that’s it,” Overlord coaxed, keeping his voice low.

Panting, Chromedome frantically tried to refocus himself to prevent himself from overloading. His spike was already aching sharply from the buildup of transfluid, and he knew that if he relented and gave into the urge to overload, that pain would be much worse. He clutched at the ends of the chair’s arms, trying to focus on his grip rather than the incessant pumping of his hard spike.

“N-no,” Chromedome groaned, shaking his helm in response to Overlord’s words.

“No?” Overlord asked, quirking a helm ridge. He smirked and suddenly released Chromedome’s spike. “Very well. Let us move on.”

The sudden relief caught Chromedome off guard, and the mnemosurgeon looked up, obviously confused as to why Overlord had stopped. Even though his overload charges had been burning at his systems, almost ready to break free, they began to ease once Overlord released his spike. His ventilation sped unevenly, and Chromedome watched as Overlord moved back…

...and let his interface panel slide away.

Fresh, new panic took hold of Chromedome when he saw the massive mech’s spike pressurize, and the mnemosurgeon began to yank desperately against his restraints. He’d known this point was coming, but that didn’t make it any less horrifying. Chromedome’s legs trembled as he struggled in vain to try and break them free, and angry, panicked noises tore from his vocalizer as he watched Overlord position themselves between the mnemosurgeon’s spread apart legs.

“Now, now...no need to panic,” Overlord chided, leaning forward so that he could rub the shaft of his firm spike against the swollen lips of Chromedome’s valve. Groaning, Overlord grinned as he felt the warm lubricant smear against his spike, and he rocked back and forth slowly, watching as Chromedome seemed to go limp in defeat. “Ahhh… That’s better. Much better. You’re a fast learner, I see. That will be very beneficial for the both of us.”

Savoring the moment, Overlord bit down on his bottom lip, chuckling darkly as he continued to cover his spike in the copious amounts of lubricant that had leaked from Chromedome’s exposed valve. The head of his spike would occasionally rub against Chromedome’s, causing droplets of transfluid to spatter down to the base. The mnemosurgeon whimpered weakly in response, painfully aroused and wanton...just as Overlord wanted them.

“Now then…”

Rocking back a little further, Overlord positioned the head of his spike snugly within the hot, wet folds of Chromedome’s valve entrance, smirking when he saw the mnemosurgeon look away and felt their body tremble underneath his grip. Whatever brief thoughts Overlord may have had about slowly pushing in were quickly dissolved by the irresistible invitation of Chromedome’s valve, and, after bracing himself and the mnemosurgeon, Overlord thrust hard into the smaller mech, sheathing his massive spike in the notably smaller valve completely.

Burning pain shot through Chromedome’s frame as the mesh walls of his valve were forced to accommodate Overlord’s large spike, and a pained shriek ripped from the smaller mech’s vocalizer. Lubricant with a mix of Energon spurted from the mnemosurgeon’s valve entrance, smearing against the base of Overlord’s spike, as Chromedome scrabbled wildly against his restraints. Even though every movement sent fresh new waves of agony through him, there was no escape for Chromedome, and he bucked and struggled until his strength began to wane.

Overlord, on the other hand, hadn’t been expecting the sheer heat and tensity that was now tightly encompassing his erect spike. A growled gasp escaped his vocalizer, and he doubled over, gripping Chromedome’s hips tightly as shuddered responsively. He could feel the mesh walls rhythmically moving around the sensitive plating of his spike, coaxing out small squirts of pre-overload transfluid. And, for the moment, Overlord simply leaned forward, keeping his spike fully hilted in Chromedome’s violated valve.

“Sh...shh...not so loud. Hhhn...hhhmn...,” Overlord moaned contentedly, ignoring the agonized whimpering that was coming from Chromedome. “Oh, yes. You feel...very, very good.  ...and you’re mine. All... _mine_ , Chromedome.”

The word ‘mine’ managed to cut through the burning agony that had muddled Chromedome’s senses into a thick, swimming mess, and the mnemosurgeon glared up weakly at the massive mech. He shook his helm once, managing to find his voice.

“Nuh-never!”

Though he remained hunched over Chromedome, Overlord looked up at them, smirking. He kept his grip on the mnemosurgeon’s hips, his thumbs rubbing hard circles against them. Lubricant, pre-overload transfluid, and small traces of Energon stained the bedding beneath Chromedome, and was smeared thickly against both Chromedome’s and Overlord’s thighs.

“I think, Chromedome, my pet, you will find that’s quite a silly notion to have,” Overlord hummed, adjusting himself just enough so that he could begin thrusting.

Whimpering, Chromedome struggled to try and writhe his hips from out of Overlord’s painfully tight grip. His valve throbbed in agony, and the mnemosurgeon could feel that the plating over his lower midsection had distended to accommodate Overlord’s massive spike. Even through the pain, there was still the embarrassingly pronounced arousal that fluttered through Chromedome’s systems. His overload charges remained heated, greedy for any further stimulation, even in the midst of Overlord’s heinous actions.

Feeling the massive mech begin to rock back and forth, their spike so big that Chromedome could feel the plating edges rubbing against the mesh walls of his valve, the mnemosurgeon groaned and weakly arched his back. Pain and arousal mingling in his core, Chromedome panted roughly as he lolled his helm around. His spike ached for release, the sounding rod remaining securely within his engorged member, and lubricant drizzled freely from his defiled valve. And each time Overlord moved, Chromedome could feel the swollen lips of his valve brush against the massive mech’s hard spike.

Chuckling when he felt and saw the smaller mech arch their back, Overlord withdrew a small bit just so that he could push back into the mnemosurgeon’s wonderfully tight valve. The soft, mesh walls, now stretched to their limits, continued to rhythmically pulse around his spike, teasing at the hot, sensitive plating and feeding Overlord’s hungry overload charges.

Watching Chromedome struggle against their restraints had been arousing enough, and then being able to taste and feel their valve had only increased Overlord’s wanton hunger. Now, though, with his spike buried deep into the mnemosurgeon’s valve, the swollen, lubricant soaked lips pushing against the shaft and base, Overlord was quite pleased his plaything thus far. They were proving to be resilient and most...welcoming, both traits quite necessary, as far as Overlord was concerned.

“Hnn...hnn,” Overlord panted, licking his lips and looking down at Chromedome hungrily. The mnemosurgeon was continuing to whimper moan and writhe delectably, their legs trembling in the stirrups. “...you feel...much better than I thought you would. You tight, wet, little thing.”

Letting on hand drift down so that he could lightly tickle his digit tips against the swollen plating of Chromedome’s lower midsection, Overlord bit down on his lower lip and grinned when he could feel the light brushings emanate down against his spike.

Oh, yes… Chromedome wouldn’t disappoint at all.

Groaning, Overlord pulled out until only the head of his erect spike remained in Chromedome’s valve, the hot, full lips enveloping it and soaking up the droplets of Overlord’s pre-overload transfluid. He watched as the mnemosurgeon’s plating slid back into place by a slight degree, smirking with the knowledge that it would soon be moved once again. Then, turning his focus back to Chromedome’s face, Overlord pushed his spike back into the smaller mech’s valve.

“Hhhaaah!” Chromedome cried, his back arching sharply as fresh new waves of stimulation and pain rippled through his frame.

His cry mixed with the sound of Overlord’s audible, contented growl, and the sound of hot lubricant, with traces of Energon, squelching as it was displaced by the sheer size of Overlord’s spike. Mesh walls parted and stretched as far as they could to once again accommodate the large intrusion, and Chromedome shuddered noticeably as his overload charges notched up, his spike giving a pronounced twitch in response.

“That’s it,” Overlord crooned breathlessly, leaning over so that he could lick at Chromedome’s neck cables once again. “Moan for me, my plaything...make all those wonderful little...noises that you make.”

The feelings of being helpless and trapped seemed to increase tenfold with Overlord leaning over him, their frame pressing against his, and Chromedome finally gave up. His frame relaxed as much as it could, legs going slack in the stirrups. Whimpering, the mnemosurgeon let his helm get pushed to one side as Overlord began to hungrily bite and lick at his neck cables. The heat from the other mech was practically stifling, and Chromedome wondered if his valve would ever recover from this.

He didn’t have too long to ruminate on the thoughts, as Overlord pulled back once again before pushing back in, this time with a bit faster. Realizing that the massive mech was going to start thrusting, and that, regardless of the pain, he could very well bring Chromedome to overload with him, the mnemosurgeon tried to keep his frame relaxed. Making another moan and arching his back, Chromedome tried to sound as appealing as he could, hoping that he could get Overlord to overload sooner rather than later and not prolong this humiliating torture.

“Yes...yes, yes!” Overlord panted roughly, now thrusting with a slow but steady rhythm. “Much better! Louder!”

As if to emphasize his order, Overlord bit down on one of Chromedome’s neck cables, the pliable metal crunching between his dentae. It elicited a sharp cry from the mnemosurgeon, and Overlord gave a particularly pronounced thrust. His overload charges were now ravenously taking in any and all stimulation that they could, and finding an abundance in the hot, wet tightness that Chromedome’s valve was giving. Glimmers of transfluid dripped down from the mnemosurgeon’s spread open valve entrance, and Overlord could feel his own lubricant dribbling down his inner thighs.

Groaning loudly and closing his optics, Overlord kept his dentae bit down on the damaged neck cable, increasing the speed of his thrusts. The berth beneath them rattled each time Overlord roughly hilted himself over and over, lubricant squirting and squelching around the base of the large mech’s spike. He had to grab the edge of the berth with one hand to steady himself, feeling his own spike start to engorge with transfluid as his first overload was coaxed along.

His entire frame jerking with each thrust, Chromedome cried audibly, the lips of his valve entrance aching and remaining swollen from being crushed against the base of Overlord’s spike. His own spike, full and hard, was inadvertently getting stroked by being caught between Chromedome’s frame and Overlord’s. The now hypersensitive plating ached sharply with the need for release, the sounding rod remaining tightly in place and only allowing a few droplets of transfluid to escape.

Senses swirling in a sickening mess of arousal and pain, Chromedome knew that he was going to overload at this rate. He didn’t know what kind of damage would happen from the sounding rod staying in, and he didn’t want to think about it. Right now, he had to focus on trying to keep his overload at bay just long enough for Overlord to overload.

The mnemosurgeon didn’t have any doubts that once Overlord was satisfied, they wouldn’t care about giving Chromedome a comfortable overload. And that was fine by Chromedome. He just...had to hold out.

Overload charges now hammering at his senses and demanding to be fulfilled, Overlord kept his bite down on Chromedome’s neck cables. He continued to thrust fervently into the mnemosurgeon, grunting with the effort of each one. His hot breath ran across the damaged and bleeding neck cables as anticipation raced through his systems as each thrust fed Overlord’s overload charges. Another shudder of expectation raced through Overlord’s huge frame as the mesh walls of Chromedome’s valve massaged delightfully against the sensitive plating of his spike, which was almost completely filled with transfluid.

His digit tips practically clawing into Chromedome’s armor and against the berth bedding, Overlord pressed his frame, now covered in a thin sheen, against the mnemosurgeon’s until he heard theirs creak from the weight. The warmth of Chromedome’s swollen spike radiated against Overlord’s midsection, which felt tight with the anticipation of release. The soft feel of Chromedome’s enlarged valve lips brushed against the base of Overlord’s spike over and over, teasing at the large mech’s anterior node.

Feeling lubricant squirt against his thighs and the base of his spike, Overlord closed his optics and groaned against Chromedome’s damaged neck cables. The mnemosurgeon’s frame bucked with every thrust, but Overlord kept them pinned down against the berth with his much larger frame. Chromedome’s moaned cries thrummed tantalizingly in Overlord’s audials, and the larger mech couldn’t resist letting his glossa slide slowly across the torn open neck cable he held tightly between his dentae. The sweet taste of Energon drizzled into Overlord’s mouth, and he groaned again as he felt his overload begin to make its final climb.

“Hnh! Hnnh!”

With a few more, strong thrusts, Overlord climaxed, his massive frame snapping rigid as transfluid throbbed from his engorged spike. The opalescent fluid filled Chromedome’s tight, debauched valve, spilling out past the small crevices of the entrance folds. Overlord groaned loudly as he writhed in ecstatic release, his senses swimming in a mix of triumph and carnal satisfaction. He licked indulgent at his lips and Chromedome’s neck cables, grunting as he pressed himself as deep as he could into the mnemosurgeon’s already full valve.

Feeling his own lubricant slide down his inner thighs, Overlord panted hotly and made a few, shaking thrusts as he rode out the waves of his intense overload. Chromedome’s mewling cries sounded delightfully encouraging, and Overlord could feel the mesh walls that were enveloping his pulsing spike rhythmically move around it. As they milked the last drops of transfluid from Overlord’s spike, the massive mech made a loud groan as he slowly relaxed.

The feeling of Overlord’s transfluid filling him, especially so fully, had elicited a cry of protest from Chromedome. Disgust, accompanied by fear when Overlord pressed even deeper into him, managed to hold the mnemosurgeon’s seemingly impending overload at bay. Even with the continual stimulation to his full spike and swollen valve, Chromedome managed to keep himself from overloading.

“I...I see that I chose my pet wisely,” Overlord chuckled tiredly, finally releasing Chromedome’s neck cables from between his dentae. He gave the cables one last lick, letting his glossa slide up to run along Chromedome’s jawline, before rising up slowly. “You’ll make a fine pet. You just need a little more training.”

Panic renewed itself in Chromedome’s spark, and he looked up in alarm at Overlord. The larger mech simply chuckled and began massaging at the mnemosurgeon’s midsection, even going so far as to take care around the distended plating where their spike was within Chromedome. Overlord lightly grazed his digit tips against Chromedome’s painfully swollen spike, giving a thoughtful look to it.

“Perhaps...we should remove that sounding rod before proceeding,” he commented.

“Puh-proceeding?!” Chromedome cried breathlessly. He knew that he wouldn’t be able to keep from overloading a second time, and the thought of him overloading in response to Overlord was sickening beyond words.

“Oh, yes,” Overlord chuckled, biting on his bottom lip in thought before continuing. “I’m hardly through with you. I-”

A sudden, crashing noise from another room made Overlord stop, and both mechs looked towards the direction of the noise. Frowning angrily, Overlord just as quickly composed himself and looked down at Chromedome.

“Well, it seems you get a short break. Don’t got anywhere.”

Finishing the sentence with a chuckle and tap to Chromedome’s faceplate, Overlord withdrew, with no hint of care for whatever discomfort he may have caused the mnemosurgeon with the action. Chromedome whimpered weakly as his mesh walls ached with the sudden absence of Overlord’s spike, and they pulsed painfully as they began to slowly tighten. Lubricant and transfluid dripped unbidden from the exposed entrance, and Chromedome’s spike remained erect from the transfluid and sounding rod within it.

Watching in beleaguered bewilderment as Overlord composed themselves, shut their interface panel, and then stride out of the room, Chromedome let his helm fall back against the berth padding. He weakly worked against his restraints, even if it did send ripples of pain from his wrist and hip joints, after he heard Overlord shut the door firmly. While he doubted that the struggling would do any good, the mnemosurgeon couldn’t help but think that maybe-

“Primus’s gearstick, what the hell did he _do_ to you?!”

The familiar voice made Chromedome jerk his helm up, and he looked up just in time to see both Whirl and Cyclonus giving hm horrified stares. It was only then that he realized he was looking at the two from _between_ his spread apart legs.

Groaning in pain and embarrassment, his face burning from humiliation, Chromedome shut off his vision and shook his helm. He struggled against his restraints, even as he heard his compatriots rush over. Nervously bringing his vision back online, Chromedome found himself looking up at Cyclonus, who was grimacing in a mix of disgust and effort as they undid the restraints around the mnemosurgeon’s wrists.

“How...how did you-”

“Oh, bloody hell, Overlord did a number on you, didn’t he?” Whirl exclaimed hoarsely as they undid the restraints on Chromedome’s legs.

“Brainstorm teleported us here,” Cyclonus answered shortly, working with sincere urgency. “We’re getting you out of here.”

“Overlord, he-he-”

“I can see what he did,” Whirl interrupted, still sounding quite disgusted. The tone did nothing to assuage Chromedome’s concerns, but right now, the mnemosurgeon was so ecstatic to see familiar and friendly faces, he didn’t care hardly as much as he should have. “He skewered you, didn’t he?”

“Stop prattling and hurry,” Cyclonus ordered roughly as he finished undoing the last restraint on Chromedome’s arms.

“I’m hurrying, I’m hurrying.”

The reply came not a moment too soon, as the sound of Overlord’s furious, quick approach made all three of them snap to attention. Looking over in panic at Whirl, who had opted to simply cut through the last restraint, Chromedome put his legs together as much as he could. Humiliation helped dull some of the pain, as he didn’t want his compatriots seeing him in such an embarrassing position. Meanwhile, Cyclonus had produced a communicator, and was barking a frantic order at Brainstorm to get them out of there.

Just as the door swung open, and Overlord’s furious scowl fixed on the three of them, the world around Chromedome swirled wildly and went out of focus. While he couldn’t see them, he could still sense Cyclonus and Whirl nearby, and, within an instant, the world around him came back into sharp focus. Only this time, it was the familiar setting of the _Lost Light_.

Unfortunately, Chromedome didn’t have time to straighten himself, and he fell unceremoniously to the floor with a metallic thud. He could hear others rushing around him, but a single voice cut through them all.

“Domey! Chromedome!”

It was Rewind.

His darling, beloved Rewind.

Even as exhaustion took hold of him, causing his vision to blur and dim, Chromedome reached out for the smaller mech. He felt them grab his hand and pull him as close as they could to their smaller frame, all the while screaming at the rest to get Ratchet.

Ventilation slowing, coming out in short, soft pants, Chromedome relaxed against Rewind. He knew that he would never live down the embarrassment of being found and rescued like this, and that explaining everything that happened would be an even worse humiliation. He could only hope that Ratchet’s demeanor would be a little better than Whirl’s, and that one day this entire ordeal would be nothing more than a nightmarish memory.

But, for now, he was safe and with Rewind.


	2. Tender Loving Care

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short, but sweet, follow up where Chromedome awakens to see that Rewind has always been at his side since being returned to the Lost Light.

Seated in the chair beside the medical berth, Rewind held onto Chromedome’s hand as gently as he could, occasionally running his thumb digit across the top of the mnemosurgeon’s hand. Ratchet had assured him that the gesture wouldn’t wake up the injured mech, and that, if anything, it would be better for Chromedome as it’d provide a sense of someone being there with them.

And that’s exactly what Rewind had done and intended to keep doing.

He hadn’t left Chromedome’s side ever since the poor, battered mnemosurgeon had been whisked away to the medbay, save for the few times that he’d needed to empty his tanks. The archiver had foregone recharging in a berth, opting instead to doze in a low power state so that he could wake up at a moment’s notice if Chromedome regained consciousness. Ratchet and Whirl, surprisingly enough, had been kind enough to bring the minibot cubes of Energon as needed, and the empty cubes now littered the floor around Rewind’s chair.

Chromedome had practically collapsed into Rewind’s arms before slipping out of consciousness, which had left their embarrassing injuries still exposed. Rewind, however, had been quick to defend his partner, and vitriolically threatened a swift and severe retribution against anybody who mentioned or mocked Chromedome. Fortunately, Ratchet had stepped in and shooed away the small, horror-struck crowd that had gathered around the small teleporter that Brainstorm had built. The medic had then assisted in getting Chromedome quickly to the medbay and gotten to work repairing the damage that had been done to the mnemosurgeon’s valve and spike.

As messy and tank-churning as it had been to watch, Rewind had stayed at Chromedome’s side throughout all the procedures. The first order had been to remove the sounding rod, which had caused quite a mess when the built up transfluid spilled out. Ratchet hadn’t batted an optic, though, and cleaned up the mess before gingerly working on the mnemosurgeon’s swollen and damaged valve. It had required a speculum being very carefully inserted and spread so that Ratchet could work on sealing and repairing the tearing that lined the sensitive mesh.

And while Ratchet had been successful in repairing most of the damage, some had to be left to heal on its own, and the entrance to Chromedome’s valve had remained so swollen that he couldn’t close the mnemosurgeon’s interface panel. As much as it had rankled Rewind, the archiver bitterly understood that Chromedome’s interface panel would have to remain open. Fortunately, though, Ratchet had picked up on Rewind’s upset and provided multiple blankets in order to cover up Chromedome.

So now, all Rewind could do was wait. Occasionally he would glance over Chromedome’s still frame, listening to the beeping of the machines monitoring their vitals. The archiver found some small comfort in how much more relaxed Chromedome seemed now that they were back in safety, but he still felt both revulsion and fury roiling in his core for what Overlord had done to his beloved Chromedome.

Though he knew that, under normal circumstances, he wouldn’t stand a chance against the massive mech, Rewind was irate enough that he felt like he could take on Overlord if put in a room with them. They had had the audacity to put their filthy hands, and worse, on and  _ in _ Chromedome, and then treat the mnemosurgeon as though they were nothing more than a disposable plaything. The fact that there had been evidence that Overlord had intended to keep Chromedome for repeats of what they’d initially done only made Rewind seethe further.

It was then that the archiver realized that he was gripping Chromedome’s hand tighter and tighter, and Rewind immediately eased his grip. He didn’t want to inflict any more damage onto his dear partner. They had more than enough to deal with as it was. While Ratchet had assured Rewind that Chromedome’s physical injuries would, eventually, heal, there was still a lot of concern as to how the mnemosurgeon’s psyche would manage.

“Still haven’t recharged, I see.”

Ratchet’s voice made Rewind look up, and the archiver stared blearily at the medic for a few moments before realizing that they were holding another Energon cube. He nodded slowly in response, turning his gaze back to Chromedome and stroking their hand and arm again.

“You know that you’re going to need to recharge sooner or later,” Ratchet chided, setting the Energon cube down on the berthside table. “Eventually, you’re just going to collapse.”

“Well, then just make sure you lay me down beside Domey,” Rewind replied curtly, his gaze fixated on Chromedome’s hand in his own.

Frowning, Ratchet started to say something in response, but Chromedome suddenly twitched and made a shuddering moan. Immediately, the two conscious mechs snapped their attention the mnemosurgeon, and they watched Chromedome closely. For a few, long minutes, it appeared that the outburst was a single one...and then Chromedome made another, louder and more distressed cry before writhing in a struggle against an unseen foe.

“Domey?” Rewind asked, standing up and setting his free hand on the mnemosurgeon’s shoulder. “Domey! It’s okay, wake up!”

“It’s alright, Chromedome,” Ratchet said softly but firmly. “You’re safe.”

Seeming not to hear the two, Chromedome continued to writhe on the medical berth, his hand flexing and unflexing rapidly in Rewind’s hold. The mnemosurgeon was quivering in terror, making short, terrified cries as they continued to fight in the grips of their unseen nightmare. It was enough to make Rewind jump onto the tips of their pedes and begin shaking the mnemosurgeon gently.

“Domey! It’s me, Rewind! Wake up! Domey!”

With a hoarse gasp, Chromedome sat bolt upright...and then immediately doubled over in pain. Gripping his aching midsection, the mnemosurgeon whimpered and clutched at Rewind’s hand tightly. He shuddered for a few moments, then lifted his gaze with a gasp, looking around and slowly realizing where they were. Looking at Rewind, then to Ratchet, and then back to Rewind, Chromedome made a soft cry and doubled back over. Weak sobs escaped his vocalizer, and had he still not felt so utterly exhausted, the mnemosurgeon may have found the strength to actually cry.

“Rewind… It’s you,” Chromedome finally rasped out.

“It’s me, Domey, it’s me,” Rewind answered quickly, nuzzling his face against Chromedome’s hand, which had now gone slack. “You’re safe. You’re safe and sound and Ratchet...patched you up.”

Lifting his helm, Chromedome seemed to realize how humiliating it must have been for the medic to see his injuries, and he grimaced before nodding shortly.

“Th-thank you.”

“I’m just glad that the injuries weren’t...worse,” Ratchet commented, choosing his words carefully.

“There could have been worse?!” Chromedome asked angrily.

Given the circumstances, Ratchet ignored the upset tone that the mnemosurgeon took with him, and simply nodded gravely.

“With Overlord, there can always be worse,” the medic replied grimly.

That was enough to make Chromedome stop and think, and after a few moments, the mnemosurgeon simply sighed heavily and covered his face with his free hand. Embarrassment burned at him, but Chromedome knew he should be grateful for the fact that he had been rescued before ‘worse’ had happened to him. That and Ratchet had been able to repair all the...damage that Overlord had done to him.

After a few moments, and with a much calmer tone, Chromedome found his voice to ask the medic another question.

“Is it...supposed to still hurt this bad?”

“Yes,” Ratchet answered with a nod. “There was...tearing, and some of your armor was distended. It was all repairable, but it’s going to take some time for the repairs to settle. Until then, take it very, very easy, Chromedome.”

“I’ll get you whatever you need, okay?” Rewind interjected quickly. “You just rest and get to feeling better.”

“Thank you, my love,” Chromedome said softly, reaching over and caressing Rewind’s helm. The mnemosurgeon was grateful beyond words for the fact that Rewind was at his side. If they weren’t, Chromedome highly doubted that he would be able to hold onto his sanity. “I...I’ll try to be careful.”

“You need to be,” Ratchet advised. After a few moments, the medic continued. “I would also suggest talking to Rung. You seemed to be having nightmares quite often since they brought you here. Which is completely understandable, given...what happened.”

Though he wanted to initially argue against the idea of going to the therapist, Chromedome stopped himself. As uncomfortable as it may have been to discuss, even with Rung, the mnemosurgeon knew that it may be necessary. He sighed and clutched Rewind’s hand a little tighter, finding comfort in the minibot’s presence.

“It’ll be okay,” Rewind whispered softly, nuzzling his faceplate against Chromedome’s hand. “It’ll be okay, Domey. We’ll make sure of it.”

After a few moments, Chromedome shivered and looked up at Ratchet, concern obviously written on his features.

“What if...what if the mercenaries come back?” the mnemosurgeon asked, his voice small and tight. “What if they try...try to take me back to-”

“Not going to happen,” Ratchet interrupted firmly but gently. “We’re going to be traveling for quite some time, and Rodimus has already promised that we’re going to be far away from the trading outpost that we stopped at. ...not to mention what Whirl said he’d do if he found the mercs.”

“It’d be a mercy compared to what I’ll do to them if I get my hands on them,” Rewind growled.

Surprised, and a little touched, to hear how angrily defensive Rewind sounded, Chromedome managed a soft sigh and squeezed the archiver’s hand again. While he didn’t want to ever encounter the mercenaries or Overlord again, it was somewhat comforting to think that there may be some form of retribution. He started to ask something else about where they were headed, but a small shift of weight made the mnemosurgeon notice something, and he looked up at Ratchet in confusion.

“My...panel…?”

“You can’t close it for now. The valve entrance is too swollen and irritated to do so,” Ratchet replied in a matter-of-fact tone. “After a few days, the swelling should go down and then you can close your interface panel.”

Horrified humiliation spread across Chromedome’s features, and he shrunk down a little bit. Rewind made a short noise, but nothing further. Though Chromedome tried to pull his legs together a little, the pain that shot through his lower midsection and valve was more than enough to make him stop. He grimaced and looked down at his lap, grateful for the blanket now more than ever. In fact, the mnemosurgeon was now contemplating asking for more blankets just so that he could have the extra layer of concealment.

“Don’t worry,” Ratchet assured, seeming to pick up on Chromedome’s embarrassment. “It’s nothing I...haven’t seen before. And you’re to stay here until you’re healed.”

“But...Rewind?”

“I’m not going to leave you,” Rewind answered quickly. “And now I can recharge knowing that you’re awake and will be okay.”

Reaching over and caressing the archiver’s helm again, Chromedome gave them an appreciative gaze. He nodded in wordless agreement, grateful that Rewind was going to stay with him. He relaxed against the soft padding of the medical berth, for the first time feeling that he could relax and enjoy the safety that the ship and his compatriots provided.

Recovery was going to be a long road, but at least Chromedome wouldn’t be traveling it alone.


End file.
